In this land where shadows whisper, dearth of light,
There lies a path, trodden, bleak, where dreams do sway.
Each step, a dance with demons, veiled in night,
Their eyes, like coals, burn bright, leading astray.

There, in the throes of a venomous embrace,
I sought solace, in the arms of a fiend’s charm,
Nectar so sweet, yet laced with death’s own trace,
Each drop, a serenade, a slow, toxic harm.

Lost, in a maze of mind’s own making, I roamed,
Chasing phantoms, in the alleys of despair.
My heart, once vibrant, now a relic, entombed,
In the depths of a night, ever bleak, ever bare.

Whispers turned to screams, in this carnival of pain,
Where joy is but a memory, a forgotten refrain.
Each dawn, a reminder of the relentless fight,
Against demons that lurk in the absence of light.

Yet, in the darkest hour, before the rise of day,
A glimmer of hope, in the heart’s quiet bay.
For even in this desolate, forsaken land,
Lies the power to rise, to understand.

To break the chains, to shatter the night,
To seek the warmth, the comfort of light.
For in the struggle, in the heart’s deepest plea,
Lies the strength to conquer, to finally be free.

In this journey, marked by time’s unyielding tide,
I emerge, not unscathed, but with newfound pride.
For in the shadows of forbidden dreams, I found,
A resilience, a will, unbroken, profound.